Monopoly with the Waynes
by ifithasapulse
Summary: Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian decide to sit down for a game of Monopoly. Originally on Wattpad.


"Hah! Pay up, sucker!"

Tim glowered at Jason who had just exclaimed his amusement at his predicament. Dick tried to look sympathetic but couldn't hide the grin playing around his mouth.

It was the early afternoon, barely past two and they had been playing Monopoly: Justice League Edition for half an hour. All of the properties had been snatched up already and they had been playing long enough for it to be clear who was winning and who was…well, not.

"Fine," Tim grumbled. He passed Jason a stack of twenties, his fingers twitching slightly as the money changed hands.

Damian, who was currently the wealthiest, didn't bother to hide his smirk. "Todd, even if Drake pays you every time he passes, you still won't be half as rich as I am."

"You keep telling yourself that," Jason warned as he shook the die. "Four and six."

"Free parking," Dick supplied. "You got off easy this time, Jason; you could have landed on me from either side of free parking."

As Jason hooted with glee and Dick pretended not to worry at the dwindling stack of hundreds at his side, Tim miserably took a look at his own cash. He only had two twenties, one fifty and one hundred left and if he wasn't careful, he would have to start mortgaging property.

Since it was a nice day and they had finished their midterms, they had decided to break in the new Monopoly: Justice League Edition board which had been a Christmas present from Bruce. Since it had been purchased in Gotham, the board contained more Gotham and Batman related things than if it had been purchased in, say, Metropolis, where Superman was the main focus of the board.

After a long argument and a small scuffle, Damian had smugly managed to get hold of the Batman figurine which he had chosen to play with. Dick had nabbed the Robin figurine which no one challenged, not even Jason much to everyone's surprise. Tim had wound up with Flash, which wasn't terrible and Jason had gotten the Batmobile, tires and all.

Damian was easily wiping the board with them, piles of twenties and hundreds sitting on both sides of him. After him, Jason was the second richest player, with a considerable amount of cash and rather a lot of real estate.

Dick wasn't doing too terribly but if his current bad luck streak kept up, he would be bankrupt soon.

As for Tim, well, it was up for debate whether or not he would survive to pass Go.

He glared at the Mister Monopoly who was beaming at him from the center of the board as he watched Dick shake the dice.

They howled as Dick realized that he had just landed on Jason's single most expensive property; Thanagar which had three bats on it, driving its price up to nine hundred dollars.

"But I don't _have _nine hundred dollars," whined Dick. He glanced miserably at his property cards before sighing and starting to mortgage property.

Five minutes later, Jason was considerably richer and Dick had mortgaged Titan's Tower and Superman's Fortress of Solitude.

"You know they'd kill me if I ever actually mortgaged the Tower," he mentioned casually, fiddling his figurine's metal cape.

"Anything but four," Tim begged, eyeing Damian's transportation; the Invisible Jet.

Tim nervously rolled the dice to get three and four. He let out a shout of glee and did a small dance around the rest of his brothers, cackling.

"Yes!" Tim exclaimed as he reached over to the Riddler-Chance cards.

"The Joker crashes his car into you; go to Gotham General," Dick read over Tim's shoulder.

Tim sighed in relief, knowing that Gotham General was his property. Tim moved his figurine to Gotham General collecting two hundred dollars on his way there.

The game continued in this vein for the next year and a half. Granted, what with all of them being vigilantes and going to school, they were pretty keyed up most of the time but they played whenever they could and the game was going absolutely nowhere.

Whenever someone suggested ending the game at a draw, someone else instantly quelled the ridiculous notion with one of the family's infamous Batglares.

"We're not ending this game," Damian said stubbornly, moving his figurine three spaces and flipping over a Riddler-chance card.

"Damian, it's been over a _year_," Tim whined. "We're done. It doesn't even matter anymore."

"I'm not stopping until it is declared that I won."

"Fine, you win," Tim exclaimed in exasperation. "You're the freaking winner! Congratulations!"

He moved to wipe the board clean, _finally_, when Damian's bony wrist shot out to stop him. "Grayson and Todd haven't declared my victory yet."

Tim whirled on his brothers, practically begging them. "Tell him he won."

"No," Jason and Dick said in unison.

"For the love of _God_," Tim clutched at his face theatrically. "I'm Robin! If I say it's over, it's over!"

"Tt," Damian muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"And another thing," Tim ranted. "What the _hell _does that even mean? You've been saying it for years!"

"It means he is unimpressed," Jason informed him, grinning broadly.

"I don't give a damn," Tim bellowed.

Dick eyed him critically. "Tim, have you had much sugar lately?"

"What do you think," Tim asked.

"I think you've had too much sugar."

"I second that," Jason put in, watching the show with interest.

"Okay," Tim said. "This has gone far enough."

He brandished his bo staff which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Tim, put your damn staff away," Jason swiped at it irritably. "What are you trying to prove?"

"Drake, have you completely lost your mind?"

Tim suddenly pointed his staff at Damian, whose eyes widened momentarily. "You. I've had enough out of you. Stay silent, little one."

In the flash of an eye, Damian had Tim pinned onto the couch, wrestling over the staff, the board lying long forgotten.

"Why do they have to pull this every time I'm here," Dick grumbled, rising to stop the scuffle.

"No, don't," Jason put up his hand to stop him. "I want to see how this ends."

"It's going to end with both of them dead."

"Well, I want to see it."

"You would."

"That's what I just said. Maybe they should call you Parakeet instead of Nightwing."

"Shut up, Jason."

"Damn, you put me in my place. How do you ever come up with all these snappy one-liners?"

"Drake, get that out of my face-"

"You first-"

"Moron-"

"Idiot-"

"Drake, you pompous, arrogant, snotty, bratty, insolent-"

"BASTARD!"

"YOU TOO!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, neither do you!"

"Okay, that's enough," Dick groaned, reaching over to pull Damian off of Tim.

Jason pouted but rose to help. "Ouch, Damian, what the hell," he recoiled, rubbing the side of his cheek.

"LET ME AT HIM," Tim bellowed at Dick who was dragging him away.

"NO! SIT!"

The battle lasted several hours. By the end, everyone had at least one broken bone and several bruises, cuts and scrapes.

"Go away," Damian sniffed as Jason drew nearer. "I don't want your help."

"Help? I was going to shove this razor down your throat."

"Jason," Dick called warningly.

"But I promise, I was going to do it nicely."

"Jason!"

"I swear!"

"Jason, if you aren't helping, get out."

"Like I want to stay with the demon anyway."

"Kind words for someone like you," Damian tossed back. The he spotted the board, wrecked in a corner of the room. "NOOO!"

"What?"

"The board," Damian rushed over, examining the shredded board and mangled figurines. "The Batman figure…how…how did this happen?"

He held up a Batman snapped in half.

"DRAKE!"

Before Tim had time to transform his bo staff into a bullet shield, Damian tackled him into a portrait of Bruce's grandparents.

"No, wait, I think that was me."

They both whipped around to look at Jason who was checking over the two halves. "Damian, this was us. I was trying to pull you off Tim when you punched me in the face and I stepped back and I accidentally kicked the figure into a coffee table and then it…broke."

There was a silence. Then there was World War Three.


End file.
